Searching for Truth

Sunday, 12 April 2015

Oh yes, I do, I really, really, do love the internet. Like almost anything the internet can be used for good--or it can be used for evil. I have chosen to use it to help me create a better book by garnering the opinion of others, and I'm so glad I did! On Facebook for instance, people have been more than willing to evaluate and critique my work so that I can improve it. I can't tell you how much I appreciate their efforts.
For example, my first book cover was of the Orion constellation over Stonehenge. I thought it was quite pretty, and even though Stonehenge is featured in my novel, it isn't the focus of my novel, so I was told potential readers would become confused. Most thought it was about Druids, or even gods, since Gods are in the title of my book--but neither is true. At least not gods in the sense of how humans think of gods.
So I changed things up a bit.

Before

After

To this..............

As for the blurb on the back, I was told I need to be a little more specific with the details, so here it is. Let me know what you think of it.

Alison Gregory had lost both her parents in the disaster of 9/11, and had spent years trying to get over their loss. She had finally found some peace on a beautiful piece of land in West Virginia --but it wasn't to last. One beautiful summer day she discovers a cryptic message cut into her cornfield, which leads her on a journey to England, where she is confronted with the painful memories of her past.
In England, Alison comes to realize her parents were the real targets in the disaster of September 11, 2001, and she could be next. With the help of a childhood friend, she finds out her parents weren't just her parents--they were part of a very exclusive group that had for centuries been working to protect the planet from sinister alien forces. In their final stages, this group known as the Association had the resources to eliminate the alien forces that has kept humanity subservient for centuries--but then disaster struck. The Association was virtually eliminated in the catastrophe that was 9/11. If Alison possessed the same abilities as her father, she could still save humanity--but could she before it was too late?

Friday, 3 April 2015

It
was years in the making, and today was a culmination of their
efforts. Today, they would set the stage for the Agenda--and the
world would change forever.

It was approximately 6 AM in the
city that never sleeps, and Beth was stuck in traffic and getting
impatient. People were everywhere. The streets were bustling with
girls in short skirts sipping their lattes, children laughing on
their way to school, men in suits, and an odd assortment of
characters unique to the city. She wasn't too surprised to see the
streets crowded this early--she just wanted them to get out of her
way. “Can't you go any faster?” she asked her cab driver, knowing
the answer before she asked it. Her cabbie recognized people like her
immediately--they were everywhere in New York City. Rushing around.
Always late. Always stressed.

With
dreadlocks partially obscuring his face, he turned his head to face
hers. “Nah, miss, dis cah ain't goin' nuh weh',” he said as he
faced forward again and pointed ahead at the mass of vehicles in
front of him.

Damn, why today? Traffic in this city is such a
nightmare...The towers were clearly visible, they were so
close--just a few blocks away. All she had to do was get there. A
seemingly impossible feat of engineering, they were an architectural
behemoth that overshadowed everything in the city. The prima donnas
of skyscrapers, the twin towers of the World Trade Center may have
been the biggest, but they lacked the esthetic qualities of many
other skyscrapers in the city--notably the Empire State Building. But
that wasn't a fault of the towers themselves. It was their
generation. Gone were the elegant Art Deco stylings of the '20's and
'30's; the towers were a prime example of the structural
expressionism popular in the '70's. They were high tech. They were
functional. They were huge--they were not beautiful.

Deciding
on an alternate route, Beth pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her
purse and handed it through the partition to her driver. “Here,
keep the change. I'm going to get out here and walk the rest of the
way.” Without waiting for a reply, she stepped out onto street with
the faint echo of her driver's gratitude wafting in her ears. This
wasn't the first time she had gotten out of a cab before reaching her
destination. Patience--like her fashion sense--wasn't one of her
strongest characteristics. Luckily, her flats and her long stride
made it easy for her to navigate the busy sidewalks.

Beth was
forty years old, almost six feet tall, willowy, and rarely wore heels
unless she felt it absolutely necessary. According to her, that was
almost never. Heels weren't conducive to her way of thinking. In her
way of thinking, they were a form of slavery, much like ties were
nooses around the necks of the slaves that wore them. Almost everyone
was a slave. They just didn't know it yet. Beth wanted to change all
that. As the sun's golden rays began peeking through the New York
skyline, she smiled to herself. This was going to be a great day.
A day that will go down in history. She couldn't wait for it that
happen.

It
took less than ten minutes for her to reach Fulton Street and the
entrance to the North tower of the World Trade Center. Without
wasting a moment, she entered the lobby and couldn't help but to
appreciate the visual contrast between the bright and colorful
banners on display in the lobby, and the grey and sombre
monochromatic exterior of the building. It made the lobby, in all its
simplicity, seem much more appealing.

Heading straight towards
the security desk, she tried to get the attention of the older,
slightly paunchy security guard who was talking on the phone. “Excuse
me, do you have a key for me? My name is Candace Morgan, and I leased
an office on the 103rd floor for today. The agent told me I could
pick up the key here.”

Putting his hand over the receiver, he
said in a not- too-friendly voice, “Just a minute ma'am, I'll be
right with you.”

Impatiently, Beth tapped her finger on the
counter as she waited for him to finish his conversation. Repeating
herself, he answered, “Let me check. Just a minute.” After
searching his computer database, he unlocked a drawer and pulled out
a key while his printer trilled out an invoice. “I need to see your
ID.”

She pulled out the fake ID she had in her wallet and
handed it to him. “Here you go.” Satisfied, he reached for
the paper coming off the printer and handed it and her ID back to her
saying, “Sign this please.” After signing it, he handed her the
keys. “It's office 9907. Take the elevators behind you. It's just
down the hall and to the left.” As he filed the invoice in a
drawer, he said, “Bring the key back before 6 pm or you will be
charged for another day.” Turning his back to her, he reached for
the phone again and dialed another number. I guess he's not a
morning person. C'est la vie.

Taking the keys, she headed to
the bank of express elevators behind her. There weren't many people
waiting at this hour, and it took no time at all for the elevator to
arrive. God I hate these things. Beth was somewhat
claustrophobic, and elevators were not her favorite mode of
transportation. Living in New York City however, forced her to face
her fears. She wasn't about to walk up 99 flights of stairs. She
would endure the distressing confinement of the express elevator for
least 10 minutes; then when she reached the sky lobby, she would be
able to take the stairs to get to her floor.

Beth chose the tower
to hold the meeting because she was familiar with it. Moreover,
holding a meeting in the clouds gave her more of a sense of security
than using an office building within sniper distance. In preparation
for the meeting, a catering company was scheduled to deliver their
breakfast in half an hour, and a security firm was meeting her in an
hour to sweep the offices for any recording devices--she wasn't about
to take any unnecessary chances.

She had leased this space under
the name of a shell company she had created which led to another
shell company that could never be traced back to her. She'd made sure
of that. She'd left her business cell at home, but did carry an
untraceable burner phone. Typically, she and her husband Ben carried
burners to communicate with each other--which were regularly
replaced. She had no computer with her either. She didn't need one.
Nothing that transpired at this meeting would be recorded, and
nothing could be traced. Everyone coming to the meeting carried fake
ID's and would be arriving in disguises. Hers was a long black wig
and brown contact lenses which obscured her shoulder length auburn
hair and emerald eyes.

Beth was a Watcher and part of a
world-wide alliance known as the Association. In addition to
Watchers, the Association's members also consisted of Implementers
and Planners. Together, they focused on changing the world, and that
was the primary focus of this meeting. They were now on the last
stages of the Agenda. Almost all members of the Association were
scheduled to attend, and Beth would be expecting them at 8 am
sharp.

After the hired help had come and gone, she surveyed the
room. The room itself was huge--it had once been a call center and
had held multiple cubicles, which were now long gone. In their place
stood two giant conference tables that could seat twenty-five people
each, with fifty soft black leather chairs gathered around them. A
dais stood in front of the tables, with two more black chairs to the
left. Fresh fruit, croissants, muffins, juice, hot coffee and tea
were laid out on an elegantly set table with a centerpiece of red
roses--waiting to be consumed by her eagerly anticipated guests. She
was satisfied. Ready or not...

Her heart was thumping
wildly in her chest as the time grew nearer for their arrival. How
would they react? So much had led to this meeting and now it was
time to organize and present their progress reports. She and Ben were
confident the Association would be able to implement the Agenda
within the next year. They both hoped the other members of the
Association would come to the same conclusions they had, but nothing
was written in stone. It had to be a consensus before any final plans
were made.

As her guests began arriving, their identities were
confirmed by a portable retinal scanner she had brought with her
before she greeted them and directed them towards the morning repast
set out against the back wall. Looking intermittently at the gold
watch on her wrist that Ben had given her on her 35th birthday, she
was getting worried. He had gone to an early morning meeting at the
university and hadn't contacted her since. Trying his burner cell, he
answered at the first ring. “Where are you?” she whispered
into her phone.

“Sorry honey, I just got out of there. They
kept me for some ridiculous security orientation, and I was told I
couldn't return to work without completing it. I'm going to get there
as fast as I possibly can. Try to appease the masses until I get
there. Maybe tell a few jokes.”

Beth had to laugh. It was an
inside joke. They both knew she had a sense of humor only few could
appreciate. “Ok, Ben, I'll try to hold them off. Talk to you soon.
I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” Hanging up, Beth
couldn't help but to feel a little less anxious. Ben seemed to have
that affect on her. He was an integral part of the Association and
its Agenda, and this meeting would never have taken place without his
efforts. All that was left to do now was finalized the planning
stages and implementation. Ben's contribution to the Agenda was, for
the most part, complete, so she knew it wasn't imperative that they
both attend. Still, Beth wanted his support at the meeting--if only
to calm her nerves.

Having had their fill of breakfast, her
guests were already seated and continuing to make small talk as they
waited for the meeting to begin. Ignoring a distant thunder in the
background, Beth stepped up to the dais a few minutes late to
announce Ben would be arriving soon, and perhaps lighten the mood
with some of her 'jokes' until he arrived. But before she could utter
a word, a male voice interrupted her. “Holy crap, why is that plane
so close?!” They all turned to look out the windows to see what he
was talking about. In front of them, a passenger jet was less than
half a mile away and appeared to be headed directly towards them; its
wingspan already stretching the expanse of the floor-to-ceiling
windows.

Oh no!!... Without hesitation, Beth yelled,
“Everyone move!! Head for the stairs. We've got to
leave--now!!” Simultaneously, they got up and headed for the
doors--but to no avail. A deafening roar hit as glass shattered and
hurled towards them like Japanese throwing stars. Blood splattered
everywhere as the Association fell--the now flaming passenger jet
upon them. It was too late. Her last thoughts were of Ben and her
daughter before the flames engulfed her, and her world disappeared
forever.

We've all heard the conspiracy theories concerning the
motives behind the attack on the World Trade Center in New York City on
September 11, 2001. They range from an inside job by the government,
done in order to instigate a war with the Middle East, to the deliberate
destruction of the towers by the owner done in order to make a massive
insurance claim. Both of these theories deserve consideration, as they
are just examples of scenarios which have taken place in the past. I
mean, we all know the government lies, and insurance fraud is nothing
new. But what if it's neither of those theories. What if the destruction
of the towers was a red herring that killed not two birds, but three
with one stone? Allow me to explain.

For the first bird, for those that have never studied the art of war, wars are fought for two reasons only--POWER and WEALTH. They are NEVER fought for freedom and democracy. That's a smoke screen used to manipulate the masses by those in control. They don't care about your freedom or democracy. All they care about is manipulating the masses to the point where they will willingly do their bidding--no matter how heinous their bidding may be. Now, those in power not only want to control us, they also want to control the G.O.D. of the Middle East (gold, oil and drugs). In order to do so, they ply us with propaganda justifying their warmongering, because they can't just order soldiers to risk their lives on a battle field to fill their wallets--people would be marching in the streets. So they
have to create a 'legitimate' reason for war. 'Legitimate' my ass... The Tonkin Incident which helped instigate the Vietnam War is one of the most famous false flags, and others can be viewed here.For the second bird, let's examine the possible motive of the lease holder of the World Trad Center, Larry Silverstein. Now. he is a successful businessman in his own right, which may be why he was able to make such a considerable profit on the blood of the victims of 9/11. Good business man have to be ruthless after all--or so the propaganda tells us. When the owners of the World Trade Centre--The Port Authority--put the buildings up for lease in 2000, Silverstein won those contracts for a mere 3.2 billion. A little more than a year later, those buildings were destroyed in one of the worst disasters on American soil. In 2007, when his insurance claim was settled, he walked away with 4.5 billion and change. Not bad... He made a massive profit and goes down in history as a 'victim' of terrorism.For the third bird--what if neither of those scenarios is the real reason for the 9/11 disaster. What if the destruction of the towers was a false flag event used to kill a group of powerful individuals in the Word Trade Center itself? What if these people had plans to change the world that would destroy the current oligarchy and put the power back in the hands of the people, and because of this, they needed to be destroyed? This is the premise of my novel 'A Gift From the Gods', and the prologue can be viewed
here. Chapter summaries and excerpts will follow.